The One Thing
by worldsapart
Summary: Grief brought them together, made them the closest of friends. When Bill decides to take a job out of the country, can Hermione find the words to admit to him that she loves him before the distance takes its toll? 3 part short. No DH.
1. The Bond That Saved Them

**Part One**

**The Bond That Saved Them**

It was still several hours before she was supposed to be there, but Hermione Weasley barely acknowledged the time when she flooed into the Burrow just after nine in the morning on August thirteenth. Though she would never ask for it, Hermione knew Molly would need some assistance in preparing for her youngest child's surprise birthday party, and Hermione was always glad to help, whatever the occasion. With the Weasley children mostly off living their own lives, the house seemed much quieter than it had only a few years earlier, but it made the hours before any gathering ones to cherish, when it was the simple things that mattered.

"Good morning, dear," Molly said without turning around as Hermione entered the kitchen, automatically grabbing an apron from the topmost drawer to the left of the sink. The woman was standing over a large cutting board, waving her wand in furious arcs as a knife shaved a large block of chocolate under her direction. "The eggs are over there, ready to be peeled and sliced, if you could."

"Were you able to get those berries you wanted?" Hermione asked as she delicately began removing the smooth, brown shells from the freshly boiled eggs. Doing it magically always ended with shell pieces in their salad, so she opted for the tedious, but pleasant method.

"Oh yes, Neville was tremendously helpful in that regard. Thank you for the suggestion." As if she needed that reminder, Molly pulled the small red fruits from the icebox and began conducting a second, smaller knife to remove the seeds. "Ginny's going to be so excited. I haven't made this cake since she was six or seven. And now my baby's going to be twenty-four."

"Your 'baby' is soon going to be giving you more grandchildren," said a voice from the doorway. Hermione turned to see Bill staring at her with an amused grin on his face. "And look what the kneazle dragged in. I mean, I know you desperately missed not seeing me Thursday because of Gin's little birthday lunch, but you needn't make it so obvious."

"Don't flatter yourself," Hermione returned, rolling her eyes at him before turning back to her task. "If you weren't rubbish at making egg salad, I could have slept an extra couple of hours."

"Nonsense," said Molly. She threw her son a damp cloth, and he easily grabbed it out of the air before using it to start wiping down the table. "Bill makes a fine egg salad when he puts his mind to it." Then she added playfully, "I just need you to keep him away from the treacle tart."

Bill paused his cleaning to look up and point a finger at the woman. "Harry said it was just fine, I'll have you know. Just because it's a little runny doesn't mean it can't still taste good."

"And just because Harry says it was fine doesn't mean he wasn't just sparing your fragile ego," said Hermione. Bill's response came in the form of a wet rag landing on her head.

The banter continued as they fell into the same comfortable pattern they always did. The rest of the family would show up soon, and they would gravitate toward their usual roles—Hermione catching up with Harry and Ginny, Bill and Charlie talking Quidditch, Molly simultaneously nagging Fred and George while praising their business sense—but in these early hours before a gathering, Hermione simply relaxed and enjoyed the company.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Bill passed his mother extra potatoes seconds before she asked for them, because she always lost count of just how many grandkids she had. Molly held the mixing bowl steady as Hermione tried once again to perfect her magical stirring technique and then encouraged her to try again after they both ended up with batter on their faces. Bill only laughed and that lead to half of Hermione's concoction being poured over his head. It was as if the three had been friends all their life; an outsider would never have guessed that they had not always been this way.

The camaraderie wasn't something they planned, but rather something that had found them and helped them out of their darkest times. It had started seven years earlier when Molly lost Arthur in the final battle against Voldemort. Everyone had suffered, of course, but no one as much as the Weasley matriarch. It was that experience, however, that gave her the ability to help her oldest son when he lost Fleur and his unborn son in childbirth three and a half years later. To say he was depressed would have been a vast understatement, and it wasn't until Hermione joined them that he was finally able to get a hold on himself, for her sake. It had been almost three years since Ron was killed on Auror duty, and only Molly and Bill's support had enabled her to keep even a tentative hold on her sanity through those first six months.

"Have you gotten the decorations out yet?" asked Hermione as she waved her wand and made the last vestiges of their miniature food fight disappear.

"Oh no, they're in a box in the twins' old room," said Molly "I wanted to get them out of the way after Harry's party."

Bill kissed his mother on the cheek. "If you don't stop letting Fred and George add to your little collection, pretty soon you're going to need to add an extra room just to store your decorations."

"The changeable banner was a nice invention, you do have to admit," said Hermione. At Bill's look she reluctantly added, "Well, except that time…."

"Don't even say it. Do you want me to go up?" He held out his hands, which were covered in flour.

"No, I'll get them." Hermione dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs with an energy that betrayed exactly how happy she felt being back at the Burrow. It wasn't as if she was away for long stretches—there was a dinner or some event at least twice a month—but while the house still held some sadness for her, it was mostly good things, old and new. It was here that, after Ron's death, she'd connected with Bill and finally been able to reach some sort of agreement with herself, to begin to move on with her life. It was here that Ron had become cherished memory instead of just an unbearable weight on her heart.

She found the box easily, but Bill was certainly right about Molly's collection. It weighed more than she remembered from only a few weeks earlier. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had started carrying a line of party favours and decorations, and for once Mrs. Weasley was a very willing participant in the product trials. So far the only disaster they'd had their hands was an exploding version of birthday candle that was only supposed to shoot gold sparks, but they had been smart enough to incorporate a shield charm into the design, so no harm had been caused by it. Hermione smiled to herself as she cast a quick charm to lighten the load and carried the box back downstairs. She immediately started pulling out items, using her wand to float them into place

"It's the perfect time." She could hear Molly's words coming from the kitchen, spoken quieter than usual. "Before everyone else gets here."

"Not yet, Mum. Please," Bill answered, also in a low voice. "Let's not ruin the night."

Hermione's brow wrinkled in confusion. What in the world could they be talking about? It was obviously something they didn't want her to hear, since she was the only other person in the house, but they never kept secrets from one another. Sure, surprise parties, random gifts, exciting news held until the last minute…but never anything as serious as Bill's tone implied. Her stomach knotted uncomfortably. What could be wrong? She knew intimately how Bill sounded when something was _truly_ wrong—the two had spent enough hours wrapped up in their grief with each other for her to know that—but this time she couldn't place the thing that coloured his words.

Before she could think about it any more, Bill came out of the kitchen with a broad smile on his face. He casually sank into a chair near her, watching as she removed each item from the box. He stared at her for at least a fully minute without saying a word. Finally, she lowered and wand and turned to him. "What?"

He shrugged innocently. "What do you mean?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You only smile like that when you're up to something."

"I just realized you hadn't heard the news, that's all."

"What news?"

"I think I'll just let my brother tell you himself," he said, leaning back with his hands behind his head. He was still grinning.

"Bill Weasley, stop being so damned coy." She swatted lightly at his arm before plopping onto his lap. As if trained to do so, his arms immediately shifted to rest around her. "If your 'brother' had been so intent on my hearing this 'news' from him, he'd have told me himself."

"Perhaps he was just waiting for the right moment," he said, the smile faltering for a split second before settling onto his face at a slightly lower wattage. At Hermione's glare, he shrugged and said, "Charlie's getting married."

"Really? Oh, that's great!" She hugged him tightly, and when she pulled back, it was only so that she could rest her head on his chest. After a moment, she said, "Do you ever wonder if we will again? Get married, that is."

"Often," Bill answered, his voice suddenly tight with emotion, "but I have my doubts."

She lifted her head to look up at him, frowning. "You don't think so?"

He shook his head and smiled softly before hugging her close to him again. "No, I think we could. I just don't know if I'll be lucky enough to twice in my life fall in love with the most wonderful witch in the world and actually, by some miracle, have her love me in return."

Hermione sighed. "You're probably right. It does seem like a rarity of fate that we had what we did. But at least we'll always have each other."

"Yes," said Bill, kissing the top of her head, "we will."

The party guests showed up right on time, or very close to it, in the case of Harry, Ginny and their two-year-old twins, who inevitably would cause six trips to find all their necessary clothing. By the time their meal, cake, and present opening was finished. Hermione had all but forgotten the snatch of conversation she'd overheard earlier. Ginny was gushing over the names they'd picked out for the new baby, who was due in later November, and Hermione found herself lulled into a happy stupor by the atmosphere. These were the times when she could forget about the small bouts of loneliness or the dissatisfaction with her Ministry desk job, so she let herself be swept up by it. So much so that she was caught off guard when Bill stood up to make an announcement.

"As you know," he started, shifting his weight from one foot to another, "I've been looking into some new job opportunities. Gringotts offered me back my old position, but I really wanted something a little different."

Hermione offered him a smile of encouragement, feeling relief flood through her. Was this all it was? He was nervous about setting off on a new track of employment? He'd only taken side jobs over the last few years, enough to stay afloat, and she knew from numerous conversation with him that, while he was anxious to find something more permanent, he was also nervous that his time out of the market had made him obsolete. There were so many new inventions in the world of curses since he'd left the field nearly four years ago.

Bill took a deep breath. "I've decided to accept a position in America. There's a small town in California that has been under a powerful influx of dark magics, and there will be a team of us going in to check things over and undo some of the things that have previously made it a dangerous place to live. I won't know many details until I get there, but I think it's going to be a really exciting assignment. A good opportunity to tune up my skill set." He looked at Hermione, his eyes searching for her opinion.

"But that's so far away!" exclaimed Ginny, saying the words that had been screaming in Hermione's head ever since Bill had started speaking again. "You won't be able to come home but maybe six or seven times a year, at the current cost of an international portkey."

"Probably even less," said Bill with a little shake of his head.

Hermione could see that he was trying to make eye contact with her, but she couldn't look up at him. She was too afraid he'd see the tears in her eyes, and that simply wouldn't be fair. He was right. It _was_ a good opportunity for him, and she certainly couldn't stand in the way. Bill, however, didn't take her silence for a response, and wordlessly offered her a hand and led her outside. She could hear the frenzied discussion left in their wake, mostly led by Ginny's worry that he children would not get to see their uncle as much as they should, but Hermione barely listened.

"When?" was all she could manage to say, when they'd gotten a small distance from the house.

"Tomorrow," said Bill softly, his voice almost carried away in the light breeze that encircled them. The sun was just beginning to sink below the edge of the horizon, and the trees that surrounded the Burrow cast eerie shadows across the lawn.

"Tomorrow!" responded Hermione, a little more loudly than she'd intended. "How can they expect you to just up and leave so quickly? You'll need time to prep—"

"It's not short notice, Hermione." He stopped and faced her, taking both of her hands into his. "I'm all packed and ready."

She felt tears prickling at her eyes again, but refused to let them fall. She'd made a promise to herself a long time ago, after Ron died, to not cry at the small things in life anymore. Too many serious things had happened to her to waste grief over silly things, and Bill moving to America was certainly not as severe as death and war. "How long have you known?"

"A month."

"A whole month and you didn't tell me? All those times we've sat around talking about upcoming holidays and weekly lunch meetings, you never thought to mention it? Why didn't you say something?"

Bill started walking again, but he only dropped one of her hands. He didn't look at her when he said, "I—I just didn't want to think about saying goodbye yet."

"But why? Why do you have to leave? Aren't you happy here?" she asked, taking a shaky breath. She knew they were purely selfish questions, and that his leaving had nothing to do with his happiness at the Burrow, so she was a little surprised by his answer.

"Yes, of course I'm happy. But part of what makes me happy…well, it's all a fantasy. I can't go on wanting a life that was never meant to be."

She didn't know how to respond to that statement. How could she? She knew all too well what it was like to yearn for a lost loved one. And even so many years later, there were still moments of weakness when those feelings would return full force. But Hermione hadn't realized that Bill had been hit by them so strongly, and she was both hurt that he hadn't mentioned it earlier, and disappointed in herself for not noticing.

They said their goodbyes only an hour or so later, and Hermione was very proud of herself for not letting a single tear fall. After all, he'd be back for Christmas, and that was only a few short months away. Between work and helping Ginny set up the nursery again, surely she wouldn't notice his absence as acutely as it felt in those first moments after apparating home.

Not two minutes after she'd settled onto her couch with a glass of wine and her favourite novel in an attempt to cleanse her mind of sad thoughts before bed, there was a knock at her door. She leapt up a little too eagerly to answer it, and was then sorely disappointed to see Ginny standing there, her arms folded over her large belly.

"You're just going to let him go?" Ginny asked before she was even completely into the flat.

"Since when do I have any control over what your brother does or doesn't do?" Hermione said with a deep sigh before sitting back down again.

Ginny eased herself onto the couch next to her friend. "But I thought…. Aren't you two seeing one another?"

Hermione nearly spit out her wine. "Whatever gave you that idea? Of course not."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny scooted a little closer and pulled the book out of Hermione's lap to force her full attention. "What gave me the idea? Everything. The way you talk about one another like the other's life is the most interesting thing in the world. Or maybe how he pulls your chair up for you at dinner or smiles when you walk into the room. How you might postpone dinner at my house, but you'll move the earth itself in order to make it lunch with him every Thursday. And—"

"Stop," said Hermione quietly. "It's not like that, Gin."

"Then what's it like?"

"We weren't meant to be anything more than good friends. He doesn't feel that way about me."

Ginny's look felt like it was boring a hole into her soul. "How do you know?"

"If he did, he wouldn't be going as far away from me as he can possibly get," Hermione said simply, biting her lip.

"Hermione, aside from Harry, you are my best friend in the entire world, so cut the bullshit," said Ginny, her face set in the same determined expression she always had when she was out to get her way. "If your feelings for one another are so platonic, why have you looked like someone whose heart has been ripped out of her chest ever since he made that announcement?"

"I said his feelings were platonic," Hermione started, swallowing in an attempt to clear the shakiness from her voice. It wasn't quite successful, to her dismay. "I never said mine were."

"So you—"

"I think I'm in love with him."

* * *

A/N--For anyone who's waiting on new chapters of Essence and/or NAE from me, I promise this little story does not mean I haven't been working on those, I swear. Both of those have next chapters that are in significant stages of progress. I just had to get this little story out of my system while it was fresh. Don't worry, this one will only be 3 parts, so regardless of the others, this one should be finished relatively quickly. Let me know what you think. I've already got Fred and Charlie stories, and Bill was feeling a little left out, haha. Thought I'd try my hand at one of these, since there aren't many out there. 


	2. The Distance That Breaks Them

**Part Two**

**The Distance That Breaks Them**

She had stayed away for a whole month.

Ever since she'd finally managed to admit to herself that she had fallen in love with Bill, she hadn't been able to bring herself to set foot in the Burrow. In fact, she had done everything she possibly could to avoid the house, even guiltily turning down Molly's proffered Thursday night dinner invitations. She missed Bill all the time, but Thursdays were their nights, and she chose to spend them alone in her flat with a book.

But somehow Hermione couldn't manage to say no to her own birthday party. Eventually she would have to come back out of her seclusion and face the Weasley family gatherings without Bill. She hadn't cut herself off after Ron's death, and she certainly wasn't going to do it now. One month of feeling sorry for herself was long enough.

It was as if she'd never been gone. She had taken up her normal place in the kitchen, apron and all, before Molly seemed to notice that things were out of place. She immediately shooed Hermione from the room.

"You can't possibly help with your own birthday meal!" said the woman, waving a batter-covered spoon at the guest of honour.

"Molly, I can't just sit and stare at the fireplace," was Hermione's reply as she stood in the doorway of the room. It was a compromise in positions—not quite out of the room, but not far enough into it for Molly to smack her with the spoon. "You shouldn't have to do this all by yourself."

"I haven't. Now get out." The woman was smiling brightly, but her stance indicated her insistence.

Sighing, she wandered out into the living room. All of the birthday decorations had already been put up, and there were even a few new ones since Ginny's party. She ran her fingers through some gold and red streamers that moved ever so slightly as if blown by an unseen breeze. Then she tried amusing herself by opening up a chocolate frog and letting it hop around a little while before eating it. She really wished Molly would let her help in the kitchen; standing around was only making her think about the one thing that would _not_ be in the house that day.

"I came all the way from California to see you, and all I get is that sad face?"

Hermione whipped her head around to see Bill standing at the foot of the stairs, smiling as if very pleased with himself. She wasted no time in tackling him with a hug. "You didn't tell me you were coming!"

Bill held her tightly. It felt good to be in his arms again, even if it was a fleeting comfort. "Well, that would have ruined the surprise, wouldn't it?"

They lingered a little longer than normal like that, but too soon for Hermione, Bill pulled away and motioned for them to sit on the couch. She wasted no time in cuddling up next to him, and he draped his arm around her shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She wanted so badly to have the strength to pull away, to not use those little moments to keep torturing herself into hoping something might change. But the second she was close to him, it was as if nothing else mattered, not even her own sanity.

"Mum tells me you had a date on Wednesday," Bill said, after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Hermione absentmindedly played with the sleeve of his robes. "Yeah, that bloke from work I told you about. He's being trying to ask me out for ages now. I'm glad I finally gave in."

"So you had a good time then?" The tone of his voice was strange, as if he was disappointed that she'd found someone else with whom to spend her free time.

She laughed shortly and pulled away a little to look up at him. "No, it was dreadful."

Bill's face scrunched up in confusion. "So wait. Then why are you glad you gave in?"

"Because now at least I know I'm not avoiding him because of Ron. Now I know it's just because the bloke's an idiot."

He laughed and squeezed her to his chest in a powerful hug. "I've missed this," he said into her hair.

"Me too," replied Hermione, her voice suddenly unsteady. When his arms slackened, she kept her head pressed against his shoulder for a second longer, just to get her composure. When she finally looked up at him, he was grinning.

"Are you sure you don't have some secret longing to work in the thrilling field of curse breaking? I'm sure I can convince them to replace one of the shoddy wizards," Bill said playfully as he extracted himself from under her and offered her a hand up.

Hermione smirked. "Ah yes, but then where would you work?"

At the last second, Bill let go of her hand and she tumbled back onto the couch, letting out a little squeal of surprise. "You think you're funny, do you?"

She was laughing so hard by then that she could barely answer. "I'm hilarious. And since I'm the birthday girl, you aren't allowed to dispute me on that. Molly would never hear of such a thing in her house."

Bill crossed the room to a rough leather bag resting on the floor near the door. He rummaged around in it for a bit before turning back to look at her. His hands were behind his back, and the look on his face was one of pure confidence. "Well, since you put it that way, perhaps a birthday girl who insists on insulting her guests doesn't deserve her present?"

"Oh, what did you get me?" said Hermione, hopping off of the couch, all previous antics forgotten. "My tenth copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ or a picture of you in a gilded frame?" she asked in her best bored voice, adding a little fake yawn for good measure. Although she had to admit that she probably wouldn't have minded the latter gift.

He held out a hand, and in it was just about the tiniest present she had ever seen, the silver wrapping paper visible mostly because of the light glinting off the surface. It was about large enough to hold a couple of galleons, but not much more. Certainly not big enough for a book. He watched her look it over, more than a hint of amusement playing across his features.

"Curious yet?" Bill asked, walking back toward her. As soon as she reached for the item, he deftly put it into his pants pocket. "Guess you'll never know now."

They spent the next hour going back and forth about the gift, Bill teasing and Hermione pretending to resist. The banter was so much like their normal, pre-move lives that she almost forgot for a little while that it wasn't the way things were anymore. She was actually disappointed when the rest of the partygoers showed up, though she was reasonably sure no one noticed. At least, she hoped not. Bill would probably attribute the slight shift in mood simply to bringing the others into the conversation, but Ginny might catch on, and the last thing Hermione wanted was another lecture from her best girlfriend on why Bill needed to know how Hermione felt.

They finished dinner and gathered in the living room for a little relaxation and conversation. She received presents from everyone but Harry and Bill. Harry's present, he said, involved travelling, so he simply promised to take her to a place he had in mind as soon as their schedules allowed. Bill, however, adamantly refused to hand over his gift, and soon the conversations drifted to other things entirely. Night had fallen, but no one in the house seemed tired, not even the children.

Hermione and Ginny watched, giggling, as Harry attempted to chase down his two children as they terrorized their cousins. Fred and Angelina's daughter was a full three years older than the twins, but you wouldn't have known it from the actions. George and Alicia's son was a month younger, but anything that involved running was a big game to him, particularly if it ended with landing on the giant fluffy pillow his father inevitably had to conjure to prevent injury.

She noticed Bill standing in another corner of the room, watching her. She hadn't really considered it before, but it occurred to her then how strange their friendship was at times. When they were together, nothing else existed in the world but them. But as soon as Ginny and Harry showed up, Bill backed off. She suspected it was because they were friends she used to share with Ron, and that Bill didn't want to intrude upon those memories. It was complete bollocks, of course. The four had never wanted to exclude anyone, much less family. She did have to admit that it was sort of nice to have him all to herself, when she did get to see him, but their time together had gotten so short that she no longer cared if she had to share him a bit. So long as she could see him.

When he noticed her glance up at him, they locked eyes for a moment, and then he came over to join the girls. He pointed at Harry and said, "I'm not sure he can handle another one, Gin. He can't even catch the two you've got."

"And he wants to teach them to fly next summer," Ginny answered with a shake of her head. "I keep trying to convince him to wait until they're thirty, because then at least he won't have to chase them down." She flashed her husband a smile, and then looked back to her friend and brother. Sighing, she added, "We settled on toy brooms for their third birthday."

"Speaking of birthday presents," said Hermione, sidling up to Bill.

He laughed and dug a hand into his pocket to retrieve the small package. "Alright, I give." He placed it into her outstretched palm and left his hand there on top of hers for a second. "But you've got to promise me something."

"And that is?"

"Never to give up," Bill said with a wink.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him about that enigmatic statement. She was too curious to see what in the world could be so enthralling that he'd make her wait half the night to see. He'd obviously used a charm to wrap it—Ron had been hopeless at preparing gifts, so she wasn't surprised to find the same in another Weasley man—and the magical glue clung just tight enough that she had to struggle to open it. She'd begun to think it was intentional from the playful smile he was giving her, but then the paper finally split and she forgot about everything else.

It was long silver necklace with a charm dangling from the end. The charm was barely wider than her finger and roughly cube-shaped. The designs on it were so intricate that it took her a moment of turning it over in her hands before she realized it was a box, with hinges on one side and a practically invisible seam running all the way around the top. She flicked at the lid, but nothing happened. Even applying more pressure, the top wouldn't budge.

"What did you do, super glue it?" she asked playfully, holding it up so that everyone could see.

Bill took it from her and gently draped the chain around her neck. The little box nestled perfectly just above her heart, and she sighed softly. It was truly lovely, functional or not, and now she would have a constant reminder of him with her at all times. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"It's sort of a little game," he said, running one finger along her neck underneath the necklace. Hermione barely suppressed a shiver. "There's a specific incantation to open it. And no," he said, stopping her before she could even open her mouth, "you won't find it in any of your books. I created this one myself."

"Well, at least give her a hint!" shouted Molly in her best mothering voice. "As much as you two have gone on about that thing half the night, the rest of us are dying to know what it's all about as well."

That got a laugh from the entire room and even some choruses of agreement from some of the children, who likely didn't know anything about the conversation except that their grandmother was always right.

Hermione planted her hands on her hips and watched Bill expectantly, trying her best to keep the giggle out of her stern face. "Well?"

"The one thing I long for the most," he said. "That's the key."

She gave him a strange look. "I just have to say what you want?"

Bill nodded. "Just say the words. The one thing I want more than anything."

Pulling the little charm up to her lips, she glanced around the room at all the Weasleys watching her. Then she said, "No grey hair!" and held it out in fake anticipation. Naturally, nothing happened.

Fred stepped up next to her. "Oh, let me try!" He bent over her hand and said, "My luck at dating."

"No, no, try 'George's stellar physique!'" shouted the other twin.

Fred started to take requests from the family, each statement even wilder and sillier than the first ones. Eventually, Hermione had to take off the necklace just to get some space from the excitable red head. All of them. Bill smiled the whole time, watching her as if no one else was in the room. There was something strange about the expression he wore, but she tried to ignore it as the conversation eventually moved on to other topics. She got her present back, and Bill turned his attention to discussing business with Harry.

"That sounds bloody amazing, mate," said Harry, wincing only slightly when his wife smacked him for his use of profanity in front of the children.

"It really is," said Bill, settling onto the arm of the chair where Hermione was sitting. He smoothed her hair down before draping his arm across the back. "I can't believe I stayed out of it for so long. I haven't felt this energized in ages. Most of the spells we're using are completely experimental. It's a thrill, really."

"Well, they'd have to be," said Harry with a nod, shifting his now sleeping child from one shoulder to the other. The other boy was sprawled across the floor at his feet, but one had been lucky enough to make it to his dad's lap before succumbing to slumber. "With the kinds of intense magical energies you're dealing with, none of the traditional spells would be at all effective. Auror's worse nightmare, that's certain."

Hermione knew what an Auror's worst nightmare was, and it definitely wasn't something as inconsequential as having to employ improvised magics in a tough situation. That would be a fun challenge. Harry knew better than anyone about the true nightmare, because he had lived it—three years ago when Ron had been killed right in front of him. She hadn't even realized her eyes had grown misty until Ginny turned to her, concerned.

"All right, Hermione?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm fine. I think I just need to get away from the excitement for a minute."

Without another word, she left the room, heading straight upstairs. She could tell Bill had tried to catch her eye, but he was the last person she wanted to look at. It was stupid to get upset over such a casual conversation, and if she wanted any hope of calming herself down, she needed a quiet, empty room and a few moments alone. She was only a little surprised when she ended up in Ron's old room; she hadn't set foot in it since Molly and Bill's constant insistence that life really wasn't over had finally forced her out.

Most of his childhood belongings had been packed up long ago, when the two had married and gotten a place of their own, but his Chudley Cannons posters still hung proudly with their outdated team roster and too-bright orange lettering. There were a few boxes, filled, she knew, mostly with all of his Auror uniforms and gear. She hadn't been able to look at them after his death, and she still wasn't sure she wanted to drudge up bad memories by opening them now. Some things were better left alone.

Was that what her feelings for Bill were? Something better left alone? Would she be better off if she locked those thoughts inside a box in a dark room and left them there to be revisited only in vague memory?

By the time Ginny knocked on the door a little while later, Hermione had the contents of every box in the room spread out across the floor.

"Are you all right?" asked the petite girl, shuffling into the room and closing the door behind her. She sank onto the bed, breathing heavily from the exertion. "You left pretty suddenly."

"I couldn't face him right then," said Hermione, chucking a poorly patched set of gloves into a nearby rubbage bin.

"So instead you're doing…what?"

"Putting the past behind me."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny finally said, "He's leaving soon, you know."

Absentmindedly wrapping one hand around her new necklace, Hermione said softly, "I know."

"Then this is your chance!" Ginny said. "Go down there and tell him how you feel, and maybe he'll stay!"

Hermione tossed one more item into the trash and then stood, staring down at the small pile she had left. She looked up at her friend. "And maybe he won't. What then, Ginny? Then I wouldn't even have what little piece I do now. I'm not sure I'm ready to take that chance."

When she slipped out of the room, Ginny didn't follow immediately. And when she got to the bottom of the stairs, she knew why: Bill was waiting for her in the living room. Alone. How her best friend had conspired to arrange that situation, she didn't know, but it either deserved death or the most expensive box of chocolate she could afford.

"I'm sorry," said Bill. "I wasn't thinking."

She scrunched up her eyebrows. "About what?"

"About how hard today must be for you without him," he said, running a hand through his ponytail. "I guess sometimes we're too good at camouflaging our pain, huh? Makes it easier for everyone else to forget, even if we can't."

"Bill, I—" She stopped herself. If that statement hadn't cemented her determination, she didn't know what would. No matter what her reply, she couldn't erase how telling his words were. He may have forgotten Ron for a moment, but she had forgotten, too. Forgotten how she was forever destined to not even run a close second to the perfection that had been Fleur.

"I'll miss you," he said simply, pulling her into a gentle hug. "But we'll see each other at Christmas."

Somehow she managed a smile. "Christmas," she said with a nod as she pulled out of the hug.

And with one last glance back, he was gone again. Hermione stared at the door for several minutes after it had closed behind him, still tempted to run after him despite her realization. If she was never going to have him anyway, why not just get it over with so she could move on? The only thing that stopped her was Molly, who came into the room to pick up the last vestiges of party dishes.

"Bill's gone then, is he?" the woman asked with a small sigh. "I suppose it's just the two of us again, then. Would you like the stay the night, dear? You look a little peaky. I'm not sure you're sleeping well enough on that fancy bed of yours."

The "fancy" bed in question was a modern platform a thousand times more comfortable than Ron's feather monstrosity had been, but she accepted the invitation anyway. The idea of going home to an empty flat—and bed—seemed even less appealing than usual. Walking up the stairs again, she felt like she was dragging two iron weights behind her, but she didn't go to her usual door.

Bill's room looked like it hadn't been lived in for years, rather than the month that it had actually been. The walls were bare and freshly painted, the furniture rearranged, and the bed newly made. It didn't even smell the same; every other time she'd entered the room, it had a vaguely minty smell. Now it was vacant. Not even the memory seemed to exist.

Hermione fell onto the bed, finally losing her last shred of resolve. And for the first time in over two years, she cried herself to sleep.


	3. The Love That Makes Them

**Part Three**

**The Love That Makes Them**

Molly had a full table, and Hermione could tell she was loving every minute of it. The Burrow was the kind of place people wanted to visit anyway, and it had pretty much become known for its gatherings, but for Christmas Eve dinner the crowd was even bigger than usual. The youngest member of the family of the family was even present—Alexander Ronald Potter had come into their lives barely three weeks previous—and they were only still waiting on the oldest to arrive. Bill's portkey was supposed to have arrived half an hour earlier, but he'd evidently been delayed.

Hermione smoothed her napkin but didn't allow herself to fidget any more than that. Truth be told, the whole table had been restless ever since Molly announced that dinner would not be served until her last child arrived. The new baby had provided a welcome distraction for a while, but she was pretty sure there would be mutiny if certain members of the family didn't get to eat soon. Her hands instinctively fiddled with her necklace, but she returned them to her sides as soon as she realized what she was doing. It wasn't hunger that was making her stomach queasy, but no one else needed to know that.

"Come on, Mum," said Fred, turning on just about the most pitiful imitation of innocence that Hermione had ever seen. "Old Bill won't mind if we take a couple of bites before he gets here."

"If he doesn't get here soon, he's not going to be able to eat when I'm through with him," grumbled Charlie. He'd been irritable ever since the very public argument he'd had with his fiancé that morning, but having the smell of food in the house without being able to eat it seemed to be the last straw. Possibly even worse than the fight.

"You can wait," said Molly firmly as she leaned over to pour some more wine in his glass.

Charlie grunted in response, but took the bottle and did the same for a few of his neighbours. Hermione had barely touched her glass, but he topped it off nonetheless. She wondered briefly if maybe having a little alcohol in her system would help pass the time easier, but she decided she'd rather have a clear head. If she was only going to see Bill a few times a year, she definitely wanted to remember every minute.

"I don't see why he's so important all the sudden," said George in a conversational tone. Then he grinned. "Ron never would have stood for it. You never could resist feeding little Ronnikins, Mum."

"No, she was just trying to fatten up Harry," said Ginny with a giggle. "Ron just got to share in the spoils."

"Share in them, sneak them when he didn't think his Mum was looking, wake up at three in the morning for them," said Hermione, laughing. "And yet he would never gain a pound."

"What can I say?" Fred input, puffing up his chest. "Us Weasleys are just blessed with excellent physiques, I suppose."

"Speak for yourself," said Ginny, a hint of bitterness in her voice. The youngest child of the family was anything but chubby, but Hermione knew from her friend's previous pregnancies that the baby weight didn't come off as easily as the others thought. It was only through diligence and hard work on Ginny's part that she could make it appear so.

Molly opened her mouth, probably to refute her daughter's opinion's on the Weasley females' metabolisms—while the woman had thinned out quite a but since her husband's death, a result of depression in the early days, she was still no Glamour Witch spokeswitch—but she was interrupted by the arrival of a tiny little Express Post owl zooming in the kitchen window they left cracked for that purpose. Molly divested it of a small envelope, and the bird flew back out so quickly that they practically never saw the animal.

A frown settled onto the woman's face as she read the note, and Hermione immediately knew without reading it exactly what it said. "He's not coming, is he?" she said softly, before she could even think to stall the words.

Several heads turned to look at her, and Molly said, "No dear, he's not. There's been an emergency at work. He's not sure he'll be able to make it back for Christmas at all."

Hermione felt suddenly nauseous. He was supposed to have been home for a whole week, and now she probably wasn't going to get to see him at all. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her that it was probably for the best; torturing herself by half-living her life between his visits was no way to continue. But there was another voice there, too, and it was telling her just as strongly that without those visits, what was the point? She forced the arguments back into the deep crevices of her mind and looked back up at her family, putting on a happy smile.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she said in such a cheery tone that she was surprised herself. When no one moved, she rolled her eyes and clarified. "Eat. We don't have to wait anymore."

As soon as this fact sunk into the men's heads, didn't waste any more time gawking at her and dug into the feast Molly had prepared. The matriarch herself gave Hermione one last little observing gaze before finally sitting at the head of the table and allowing her sons to pass the food her way. Only Ginny continued to watch her with a knowing expression on her face, shaking her head in frustration before turning to the food. Her best friend was stubborn, to be sure, but not even that was going to convince Hermione she was in the wrong this time.

After dinner everyone gathered as usual, with the kids playing and the adults at least trying to chat amidst all the chaos of playtime. Hermione was curled up in the chair nearest the fire with her favourite afghan and a book, but she wasn't really able to concentrate enough to read. After the first few apologies shot her way, either for Joselyn's paper airplane ending up in her hair, or for Kent deciding that her lap was the apparently the best in the room, she was glad everyone could blame the children for the distraction from her task rather than the true reason.

She found herself messing with the necklace Bill had given her more and more as the late afternoon turned to early evening. The others had periodically put in their guesses in the three months since her birthday, and she had worked on the incantation tirelessly in her spare time—Thursday nights had been particularly bad for her lately, so it wasn't unusual to see her crouched over a complex Charms text and a dictionary, searching for the perfect combination of words—but so far she had been unsuccessful in opening the little box.

"Still no luck, eh?" said Ginny as she came up and settled onto the arm of the chair. She looked more tired than Hermione had seen her in a long time, but the smile she was giving was at least one of genuine happiness.

Hermione shook her head. "I've run out of ideas. I'm still confident Bill will crack eventually, though."

"Somehow I doubt even you will be able to break my brother through letters. Now if he were here…."

"Don't start, Gin," said Hermione in a whisper. She stood up, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but sitting there having that conversation. "I'm tired. I think I'll go up to bed."

"Hermione, you really shouldn't avoid—" started Ginny.

"Goodnight," the other replied firmly with a little shake of her head. Just as she started to walk away, she turned around and added, in a hushed voice, "He's not here, Gin. I have to learn to live with that, and I can't continue as if it's going to change anytime soon. I've got to move on."

* * *

Morning came early thanks to all of the children in the house, and Hermione was thankful that she'd gotten in a couple of extra hours of sleep. Well, not so much sleep as rest. She hadn't exactly fallen into a peaceful slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow, but at least she had managed to keep her emotions under control. Her thoughts were something else entirely, and they plagued her once again when she awoke. 

She had taken a really close look at her life over the last couple of months, and her short conversation with Ginny the night before had really just solidified everything for her. Her friend was right about one thing—she _had_ been hoping Bill would just magically decide one day that he belonged back here, with her—and Hermione's realization of that fact had not been a pleasant one. Since when had she been the type of person to sit around and let someone else control how she lived her life? Ron had never tried, and he had been her husband.

With her mind made up, she crawled out of bed and threw on her dressing robe, feeling just a little bit more light-hearted than she had before. She could already hear the raucous sounds of children discovering their Christmas gifts and Molly screeching at whichever son had mistakenly assumed it was all right to wander into the kitchen and steal some food. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she had a small smile on her face.

"Good morning, dear," said Molly upon seeing her, no trace of irritation in her voice. Whatever antics Fred and George had already been up to, they obviously hadn't affected the Christmas spirit of the house.

"Good morning, Mum," said Hermione, and she kissed the woman on the cheek, pleased at the reaction the title got. Most of the time she just referred to her mother-in-law as "Molly," but every once in a while she was struck with such affection for her that just her first name wasn't enough.

Angelina handed her a cup of tea, and she settled onto the couch next to Ginny to watch the children pick through their presents with more enthusiasm than was natural for such an early hour. Charlie and his fiancé were cuddled in the chair nearest the fireplace, all arguments of the previous day obviously forgotten, if the amorous manner with which she nuzzled his cheek was any indication. Hermione felt a tiny jolt of jealousy. Not for Charlie, certainly—he was the only Weasley other than Percy for whom she'd never even harboured the tiniest crush—but for that unabashed and completely wonderful display of affection.

"Happy Christmas, Aunt Hermione," said Ginny's twins in such a perfect unison that Hermione would have giggled if she hadn't been so flabbergasted. They handed her a box that was neatly wrapped in shiny red paper before dashing off to play with their cousins. She looked up questioningly at her friend and noticed that most of the room had stopped to look at her.

"Happy Christmas, from all of us," said Harry. "You're a hard witch to buy for, but I think we've managed to come up with something fitting."

She slowly pulled the paper away from the box, at first sticking to the seam lines and then finally pulling it away in big chunks, ready to satisfy her curiosity. What in Merlin's name kind of present would require such a joint effort? When she finally lifted the lid, she was even more confused; inside was an old teddy bear, so worn with age that it might have been her grandmother's childhood toy.

"It's a portkey," said Ginny with a grin, when her friend had looked up with apparent bewilderment. Then she added in a significant tone, "An international portkey. It can be set to wherever you choose."

Hermione took a deep breath as she felt her face muscles begin to contract under the strain of her emotions. She ran a finger along the matted fur of the little brown bear, wondering whose idea the gift had been. She was inclined to think first of Ginny, but from the knowing smiles some of the others were giving her, she couldn't be sure. Shaking her head, she tried her best to smile. Her heart hurt thinking that anyone else could possibly be harbouring any of the same hopes that had consumed her the last four months.

"Thank you," she said softly. Then, with an effort to boost her tone and volume, she added, "This will come in handy very soon. I've made some plans."

"Oh?" asked Molly, the question coming across as casual as Fred or George wandering through a room on their way to the latest prank.

"Yes," said Hermione with a nod, finding more of the strength to speak every second. She could do this. "I've—I've decided to take an extended leave of absence from work and travel a bit. I think it's about time I see the world. Perhaps I'll start with Cairo. I've heard it's beautiful this time of year."

She didn't need to mention who'd given her that bit of information.

"But that's not part of the plan!" exclaimed Ginny with such gusto that her son started wailing at the sudden outburst. She clapped a hand over her mouth, obviously surprised at her own words. Harry took the baby from her and began the process of gently persuading him back to sleep, but Ginny couldn't seem to move. When she found herself again, all she could was mouth, _Why?_

Hermione just shook her head, and thankfully Harry jumped to her rescue, rather intentionally or not. Molly's mouth had set in a flat line, but she perked up at a request of help with the baby from her son-in-law. Soon she was cooing and rocking and had seemingly forgotten about Hermione's little announcement. Likewise, the rest of the family went back to their previous occupations with children, presents and cuddling. Only Ginny, as usual, seemed undeterred from the topic.

"Why?" she repeated quietly, once attention had turned from the two women.

"I've told you hundreds of times, Gin. The fairy tale version isn't going to work out this time."

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Ginny with an irritated little sigh. "Why didn't you tell me you were thinking about leaving?"

"Because I didn't want you to try and talk me out of it," Hermione admitted.

"So if you knew I would, why do you want to do this anyway?"

"I have to," answered Hermione. When she realized that answer wasn't going to be good enough, she set her teacup down on the end table and turned to look directly at her friend. She was grasping for the words to explain, when she remembered the conversation she'd had with Bill when he'd been leaving. If only he knew how applicable his words were for her as well now. "I love being here, with you and Harry and everyone else. I'm happy here. But another part of what makes me happy is a fantasy, a living dream full of what-ifs. And I can't go on wanting a life that was never meant to be."

Ginny's face screwed up in something akin to frustration. Then she just rolled her eyes. "You're crazy."

"What?" Hermione hadn't known what her friend's response would be to the announcement, but that certainly wasn't anywhere near what she had pictured.

"You aren't supposed to give up, remember?" said Ginny, and with a final headshake, she got up and went to retrieve her son from his grandmother. The woman would be content to mind the baby all morning, but the rest of the household would probably like that delay in the food even less than the previous night. Ginny settled on a chair closer to the kitchen.

Hermione's hands found the necklace automatically as they had so many other times when she'd been thinking of Bill. She was struck again by the unfairness of her situation. If Bill had been there, he would have been able to help her sort it out, but that was really the problem in a nutshell, wasn't it?

"I wish you were here," she whispered. It was mostly under her breath, was she was still thankful for the noise of the children and other conversation that had left her relatively secluded in the active room. She was so overwhelmed with the emotion of it all—Bill's absence, her decision to leave, Ginny's stubbornness—that she could barely hold her composure. Her voice caught in her throat as she choked out the last words. "I miss you. And I—I love you."

The sound was almost imperceptible in the ruckus, but there was no mistaking the movement in her hand. She glanced down and saw that the little box's lid had sprung open. Hermione let out a little shriek of surprise in spite of herself.

"Oh, you got it open!" Ginny exclaimed. She looked like she wanted to leap out of her chair and run to her friend, but the tiny baby in her arms kept her seated. "Well, what's in it, then?"

Ginny wasn't the only member of the family whose attention her cry had garnered, and Hermione would have been completely mortified at the amount of attention she'd been getting over the last few days if her hands hadn't been trembling so badly. She'd waited months to see what was inside the tiny box, and now that she had it open, she wasn't sure she had the courage to look, especially with so many eyes on her. What if all the build-up rendered the secondary gift disappointing? She really didn't want to shed foolish tears in front of the entire family if that were the case.

"What is it, dear?" asked Molly. She, too, looked like she wanted to approach, but from the smells emanating from the kitchen, she was staying in close proximity to her cooking, waiting for the perfect moment to remove the danish from the oven.

With every effort to still her shaking hands, Hermione lifted the tiny hinged lid like it was as delicate as Ginny and Harry's new son, and at first glance she could detect a slight glint of something shiny from the interior of the box. She tilted it so that midday sunlight could better reach it and felt her breath hitch in her throat. Quickly, she put her hand over the opening and just shook her head repeatedly, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She hadn't cried since her birthday, and she had no intention of repeating the moment of despair for Christmas.

"Hermione?" asked Harry, concern in his voice.

Hermione could only shake her head again and again. She couldn't show them what was inside the box. She wasn't even sure what to make of it, so there was no telling what Bill's family would say. He'd moved away, all but cut off their contact, and now this? For two people who were destined to remain nothing but close friends, it was a cruel joke. But if it was something else…Hermione couldn't even let her mind accept the possibility. He'd left her; he didn't want anything more.

Before anyone else could speak up and question her, the front door swung open and Bill walked in, out of breath and looking an absolute wreck. His usually neat ponytail was askew, and his work robes hung crookedly on his frame, dusted lightly with dirt and Merlin knows what else he might have encountered in his daily work.

"Bill! I thought you had an emergency."

"Hi Mum. I did," he said, barely giving her or any of the rest of his family a glance. His eyes finally found and focused directly on Hermione. "Something more important came up."

Hermione felt her stomach twist violently, whether in anticipation or fear she wasn't sure. She sat there, locked in his gaze, but she couldn't will her body to either approach him or look away, so she just didn't move. There were no words in her vocabulary to express what she was thinking at that moment, so she chose silence. Thankfully, her tears were cooperating and stayed at the corners of her eyes.

"I cast one extra little charm to notify me…you figured it out?" Bill said quietly, taking a few slow steps toward her. His voice was strained, as if it was only through the most deliberate control that he was able to speak at all.

"It— It opened. I'm not sure what—"

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" she asked, trying to ignore the confused stares of everyone else in the room.

He came a little closer, his movement tentative like he was testing for her reaction first. "What you said to make the locket open. Was it true, or did you just—"

"You left me alone, and now this?" Hermione said, stopping as soon as she felt the tightness from her cheeks spread to her throat.

Bill closed the last few feet between them and dropped to his knees in front of her so that they were on the same level. He wrapped his hand around hers, and she felt the pressure of the little box inside her fist under the firmness of his grip. "I only left because I never thought that you might…."

"Why the necklace?" she said, desperately trying to keep control of her emotions.

"I had to keep my hopes up somehow, didn't I?" he said, cocking a little smile at her. Any other time, in the course of their normal banter, she would have smacked him for his cheek, but now all she could focus on was the glistening of moisture in his eyes. "I didn't really think there was a chance that you loved me."

Behind her, she thought she heard a shocked gasp from Molly, followed by Ginny shushing her, but to Hermione it felt more like the fuzzy bits of an otherwise clear dream. Her voice was barely a whisper when she said, "It was true. Every word of it."

Before she could even move, Bill's arms were around her. He pressed his lips to her ear. "I only left because I didn't think I could ever have you."

She couldn't help it. Tears started pouring down her cheeks. "There wouldn't be anything left of me if it wasn't for you. I've been yours for a long time."

"So wait. That was the 'one thing'?" Ginny broke in, all reverence for the moment apparently lost. "That you loved him? And you weren't sure if you'd ever get anywhere with her?" She shook her head in disappointment. "People really don't put enough stock in the observation skills of the baby of the family. I could have told you that two years ago and saved you both the trouble."

Bill let out a little nervous chuckle, but he didn't answer his sister's exclamation. Instead, he pried the necklace out of Hermione's fingers. He reached inside and pulled out a sparkling diamond and emerald ring. All of the chatter that had started up in the background immediately ceased once again.

"I will be the happiest man in the world if you can prove my hopes weren't in vain. If I really can be this lucky twice," Bill said. "Marry me?"

"Only twice," she teased, and then kissed him with every ounce of passion that had been welling up inside her. When they finally pulled apart, they were both out of breath and trying to hastily wipe away tears.

"That was a yes, by the way," said Ginny with a short laugh.

Bill glanced over his shoulder, and Hermione took that half-second to take in all the beaming faces around her. Feeling her face grow hot, she buried it in his shoulder as he said, "I think I could at least figure that much out on my own. Thanks, Gin."

"I love you so much" Hermione whispered against his neck, feeling so deliriously happy that she couldn't stand to hold back the words any longer.

"I love you, too," Bill answered, and then she found herself caught up in another searing kiss.

She didn't know if Ginny was right; maybe they had loved one another for a long time, and that this had been inevitable. But she did know that she was certain about it now, and that Bill had been right after all. They would always have each other, because that one thing had been enough. She had a feeling there was only happiness in store for them.

Because few people were this lucky twice.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Happy Christmas, everyone! A Christmas chapter just in time for the holiday itself. I thought that would be appropriate. I hope that ending was a satisfactory little present for my dear readers. I struggled with those last few paragraphs for a good half hour, trying to get just the right tone and flow. I hope it worked. Pretty sappy, but I didn't really intend much else for this piece. I'm a little sad to see this story end, but I'm glad that I got there. This certainly came out longer than I intended, but I'm glad it kept itself restricted to a lengthy one-shot. I'm not sure I could handle keeping up with another full-length story!

Speaking of those other stories...I PROMISE I'm working on the next chapter of Essence. I've been having a hard time with the next chapter (and yes, I realize it's completely evil to leave you hanging at the kiss--I'm sorry!! I swear it wasn't intentional!). I've put a lot of little plotlines out there, and I want to make sure I don't leave anything hanging. But I have managed to start working on it. The next chapter of NAE is also in the works. As much as I've enjoyed that one so far, it's really only gotten started. I can't wait to share the next few chapters once I've written them. Good fun and drama is in store. ;)

Who should I write next? I've always got to have a project in the wings, LOL. I've thought about doing a Harry/Hermione or a Remus/Hermione. Hell, I've even read some Sirius/Hermione lately, so if I can come up with a different twist on that one, I wouldn't be adverse to it. Any votes?


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